Page:Confessions of a wife (IA confessionsofwif00adamiala).pdf/106

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CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE

"I think I will pin it on your cushion with one of the pearl butterflies I wore to fasten my wedding lace. I was glad you noticed the butterflies. I am glad you liked the way I looked. This is part of the miracle. I begin to care so much—too much—for what you like. But now that I try to tell you so, I find that words flit away from me like butterflies—no, no! not that. Rather are my words moths, and they advance and retreat, and circle and waver about the light of my love for you, and dash them headlong, and perish in it. For my love is like a tall, strong candle on an altar; it burns steadily and sacredly before the holy of holies. I know that I have but begun to love you. I know that I shall love you more—I fear to know how I shall love you!

"For I am

"Your Wife."

The Second Note.

"Darling: Will you mind two notes from me? I cannot seem to find any other way of enduring this separation. I will slip this one under your pillow, so you will find it later than the pin-cushion one. See! I put one of the roses you brought me last night within the note.

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